


all at once you were the air in my lungs

by favefangirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Regret, Sort Of, Stucky - Freeform, mild body dismorphia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 07:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/favefangirl
Summary: Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America, has just saved the Howling Commandos from Hydra's grasp. That was nothing compared to what he has to do next...





	all at once you were the air in my lungs

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I started working on a while ago but then I kind of fell out with it and I'm sick of it clogging up my laptop so here it is, probably rubbish, but finally complete.  
>   
> Please read and hopefully enjoy?  
>   
> One can only apologise for the quantity of lung/breathing/air related metaphors in this. The title is just me taking the mick tbh. IDK man, it's been a long day.

Steve has just crawled through the jaws of hell on a rescue mission most wrote off as suicide, but it's this he's worried about. Back on British soil, with the Howling Commandos safe as can be given the unfortunate circumstances, without the adrenaline spurring him on, Steve can finally spend a moment to dwell on the inevitable conversation he and Bucky are going to have to have.

He's with two thirds of the Commandos in the bar tent, drinking even though it has no effect on him, trying to prolong the inevitable. He can practically feel Bucky's eyes on him the whole time from where he's sat at the bar with Peggy. Now there's a match made in heaven. Peggy is exactly Bucky's type, and Steve hasn't missed the appreciative glances Peggy's been throwing Bucky's way. His two favourite people, it couldn't be more perfect.

See, Bucky has a type. Smart, kind, funny. Petite. Small. Itsy-bitsy waists, dainty, cute. The way Steve used to be. Before the war, before the serum, when it was just the two of them in their freezing little flat, doing in private all the things they would be shunned for in public. Steve was small enough for Bucky to carry around, like some kind of human rag doll. Steve thinks Bucky probably got off on how tiny Steve was compared to him.

He's not like that anymore. Not since the serum. The serum that made him breathe better is now the reason his chest feels tight, like he can't get enough oxygen to his lungs. He dare not even look Bucky in the eye, can't watch as he indubitably flirts with Peggy. Why wouldn't he? He and Steve have never officially been a thing, those long, cold, winter nights spent sharing body heat in the same narrow bed notwithstanding. He's single, she's single, there's no reason they couldn't. Or wouldn't. Or shouldn't.

He looks around and sees that all their glasses are empty. It's his turn to buy, according to one of the guys. He can't really argue; it wouldn't be fair to let them pay for all the drinks because he's too much of a chicken to have a conversation with his best friend. He gathers himself then walks over to the make-shift bar. It's relatively long, plenty of people sat at it, he manages to find a gap a little way away from where Bucky and Peggy are sat. Thankfully he can't hear their conversation as he orders the drinks, ignoring the dread pooling in his stomach.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and almost doesn't look around. But he has to. Bucky is still his best friend, he can't ignore that no matter how much he might want to at that precise moment. When he turns, he has to swallow. Bucky. Jeez. He's a little thinner, his eyes a little less bright, but he's still Bucky. He's still got the same cocky little smirk. Steve hates him and loves him so much, he's not sure which he's feeling now.

"Hey, can we talk?" Buck asks, nodding towards the exit.

"I just bought the guys drinks." Steve mumbles in reply. There are three beats of silence in which Bucky looks somewhere between pissed off and confused before Steve relents. "Just let me take these over to them."

No one seems especially disappointed that Steve was leaving once they all have fresh beer in hand, and Steve is able to leave without incident. Peggy sends him a smile across the tent as he passes, something devilish glinting in her eye. He takes a deep breath of air to steady himself (and maybe to remind himself everything he's gained from the serum before he's about to see everything he's lost because of it).

Bucky is waiting outside, leaning against a wooden telephone pole. He looks nonchalant, unconcerned. Steve doesn't know if it reassures him or makes him feel decidedly worse. Bucky smiles at him and begins to walk in the direction of Steve's private tent. Steve follows him in silence, ignoring the lump building in his throat and the voice telling him to run very far very fast.

He slips into the tent behind Bucky, allowing the heavy opening to fall closed behind them. It may be more spacious than the barracks, but it's no more luxurious. Crates of costumes and props are piled along one side, while the other has a threadbare bed and a small bedside table. It's by no means extravagant, but it'll do. This is what Steve always wanted, after all, to serve his country no matter the personal cost. No matter the personal cost...

Bucky turns around after peering around the tent's interior. He looks at Steve but Steve can't read it. For the first time in years, he can't tell what Bucky's thinking. The thought of it makes him feel sick. Steve and Bucky, inseparable best friends for life. Could it be that they are wrong? Could it be that their friendship is really made of porcelain instead of vibranium? That they have been wrong all this time?

"Well," Bucky began, "I guess I didn't take all the stupid with me." He shakes his head and laughs almost fondly. "I'm gone five minutes and you let some crazy German scientist experiment on you? Let him turn you into this?" Bucky gestures to Steve's new form with both hands.

Steve's heart sinks. He knew it, he knew Bucky wouldn't be attracted to him looking like this. He has a type, a very specific, very important type. Small - small - small - small - small. Not this. Not towering, not broad, not musclar. Steve can feel the bile rising up in his throat, can feel the tears welling in his eyes, can feel the building desire to be small again. He used to hate it, used to want to give anything to be taller and stronger and faster and better. But not Bucky. He never would have given up Bucky.

"Sorry," Steve replies, no more than a hoarse whisper, as the first tear falls despite him willing it not to.

Bucky's whole demeanour changes. His eyes widen and he takes two long strides towards Steve. "Hey," he soothes, hands rubbing comfortingly up and down Steve's biceps. "What are you crying for, huh? C'mon Stevie, we're both alive, you're a hero, it's alright! It's all alright."

Steve shakes his head, tries desperately to stop crying even as he feels the tears running down his face. God, he never wanted this. Never wanted to lose Bucky, anything but that. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

Bucky moves his hands from Steve's arms to wipe away the tears. "Hey now," he says softly. "What are you sorry for?"

"I'm not- I don't- " Steve pauses to breathe, to collect himself. "I'm not like a used to be before," he manages. "I'm not small anymore."

Bucky frowns. "Yes. And?"

Steve can't bare to look at him. His heart is in a million pieces in his chest, each sharp shard a centimetre away from puncturing a fragile lung. He still doesn't feel like he can aptly breathe, the tears still streak down his cheeks. He probably looks a mess, crying like a child. He feels on the verge of hyperventilation and wills his new working lungs to do their damn job, otherwise what even was the point of the serum. To loose Bucky and have it all be for nothing?

Steve shakes his head to clear the fog in his mind and reminds himself how to have a fully functioning conversation. "I get it," he says, breathing heavily but finally coherent. "It's fine, I get it."

Bucky looks from one of Steve's eyes to the other, clearly searching for something. He takes a small step back, letting his arms drop to his sides. "What are you talking about, Steve?"

Steve rolls his damp eyes and exhales through his nose. Bucky is really going to make him spell this out, as though he isn't hurting enough. "I get that you're not into me anymore, it's fine."

Where before Bucky's frown had been full of concern, Steve can see the second it turns angry. "What the fuck, Steve. Where the hell has this come from?" It's clearly a demand, and it makes Steve swallow hard.

"C'mon Buck, you and I both know what your type is. All those tiny little girls you'd take on dates, Martha Simmons and her three inch waist, me." Steve shakes his head, the pain in his chest at full force thinking about how different he is now.

Bucky takes another step back and looks positively furious. "You think I give a damn about your size?"

Steve looks at him with wide eyes. He's never seen Bucky angry at him before, only at others. It makes him feel queasy and shaky, as though the whole world has spun around him, and he's finally catching up to it. "I'm not small anymore," he repeats in a tiny, pathetic little voice.

Bucky's eyes flash with rage and when he takes two purposeful strides forwards, Steve braces for the inevitable blow. It never comes. Instead, Steve finds himself in Bucky's embrace, Bucky's lips pressed against his. It is not gentle. Bucky's kiss is bruising in a way it never was before, his hands grip Steve's waist like a vice and there's no space between them. Despite the surprise, Steve reacts quickly, wrapping his arms around Bucky's neck trying to pull him impossibly closer. He kisses back with as much intensity as he's being given and doesn't budge an inch.

When Bucky pulls away he doesn't move very far and Steve's breathless, but the pleasant kind. He can feel his lungs working just fine and it's still something he has to get used to. Bucky's looking at him in a way that's still clearly angry, but his pupils are wide and his iris' dark. This is a look Steve knows well - lust. It makes his heart beat faster and his dick twitch in his pants. And fuck, but if he doesn't feel good with Bucky looking at him like that.

"If you think I'm not attracted to you," Bucky says deep and just as breathless as Steve is, "then you're an idiot."

"Buck," Steve whines because it's been so long and his name is the only thing that matters. "You don't have to."

Bucky shakes his head, leans forward for a chaste kiss and says, "I'm not sure about a lot of things, but I'm sure about you, Stevie. Always have been." Steve whines again and chases Bucky's lips for another kiss, but Bucky doesn't let him. "If you ever say anything crazy like that again so help me God I will slap you into the next century."

Steve can't help but grin at the phrase which is so incredibly Bucky. "I think I can live with that," Steve all but whispers and this time when he leans in for a kiss, Bucky doesn't pull away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you enjoyed it you might want to leave a kudos or a comment. Or if you didn't enjoy it. Please, dear God, comment - I am so lonely... I also accept concrit if there's something about this that's bugging you that you wanted to tell me, just make sure it's constructive. I'm especially cool with concrit regarding this, I know it's pretty weak and a totally overused concept.
> 
>  **Prompts?**  
>  So, I have severe writers block at the minute and so in order to try and stimulate my writing juices (that is a weird sentence, I apologise) I’m opening myself up to prompts and requests for writing. I don’t really write smut, but I can try should the prompt inspire me. Also, I will try to write Supernatural but I mostly know what happened in season one and whatever is fanon so perhaps don’t suggest those unless there’s a really good prompt you think of. I’m looking for shorter stuff, one-shots only. Some may inspire a multi-chap fic, but that’s not really what I’m hoping for right now. If there’s a certain ship or fandom you’re interested in just ask and I’ll see what I can do. If you're interested please message me on one of the social media listed below, it is muchly appreciated!  
> ~or~  
>  **PROMPT IDEA**  
>  Send me a song and a prompt!  
> t’s a cool way to hear about new music and I’ll actually get some writing done this year!  
> Lemme know in the comments or on the social media listed below!
> 
> If you want to message me my Instagram is @Favefangirl and my Tumblr is [nebulous--bounds](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nebulous--bounds) I'm more than happy to answer any questions, maybe fill any prompts or just generally converse with you lovely people. Be sure to follow me, too, if you want! I'm mostly multi-fan and I blog a lot about writing (especially on Tumblr). You can also follow me on Pinterest [here](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/Favefangirl/).
> 
> Anyways have a wonderful existence until Infinity War when our hearts are going to be ripped out of our chests and torn apart :)


End file.
